“Good thing you’re here, Walker.” Sarah stopped right in front of him. She glanced past him toward the creek.
“Is Evelyn causing problems?” Alex’s eyebrows furrowed.
Sarah stared at him for a moment, her own forehead wrinkling. “No, but Mama asked me to come find you.”
There was only one other reason Aimee would want to seek him out that he could think of. “The stitches are fine,” he said.
“It’s not about the stitches.” Sarah turned her head to the side and studied his face. “Do you know what this is, Walker?” She held out her hand, displaying a rectangular cake of soap.
Alex glanced at it, then back at the girl’s face. She behaved more like her mother all the time. She had the same determined look about her when she set out to do something. The fact that Sarah was up to something was quite apparent.
“’Course I know what it is.” He frowned.
Sarah thrust the soap at him. “Then use it,” she said firmly. She nodded with her chin toward the creek. “I suggest you take off your shirt and britches first, though.”
Alex raised his eyebrows.
“Well, you can’t bathe properly with your clothes on, now can you.” She expelled an exasperated breath of air. “I won’t look.”
“What the hell do I want to bathe for?” Alex argued.
Sarah held her hands to her hips. “For starters, you smell worse than a grizzly that’s been wallowing in bison dung,” she said. “I’m sure Miss Evelyn won’t tolerate your smell for long.”
“What concern is it to her what I smell like? It keeps the bears away. Your father taught me that.”
“Walker, you’ve been in the wilderness with those comrades of yours much too long. Papa wouldn’t dream of coming home smelling like you do. Mama would toss him out like yesterday’s dishwater. You can cover yourself in bear grease and beaver musk all you want when you’re out running your traps, but when you come home, you’d better look and smell presentable. Which,” she glared at him through narrowed eyes, “brings me to my next task.” She produced a straight edge and a pair of scissors from the pouch hanging from her shoulder.
“After you’re done bathing, you’re getting a haircut and a shave.”
“You ain’t comin’ near me with those scissors and that blade,” Alex said and took a step back. He warily eyed the sharp objects in the girl’s hand. He had no doubt that she knew how to use them as effective weapons if need be.
Sarah laughed. “What’s the matter, Walker? Scared of a mere girl? Don’t worry. Papa lets me shave him all the time. I haven’t cut him . . . much.”
Alex rubbed at the coarse hair on his face. “What the hell are you trying to do to me?”
“You’ve got a wife now, don’t you? Shouldn’t you make yourself more presentable to her? I bet in her eyes, you’re no better than the rest of these trappers who forgot what it’s like to live among civilized folk. Miss Evelyn is more than likely going to just toss you aside. I swear, Walker, don’t you know anything about how to show a woman some respect?”
Alex glared at the young girl. He’d never considered that by bartering for Evie, he’d bought himself a wife. Keeping her was out of the question. Hell, she was scared to death of him as it was.
And for good reason, Walker.
If yesterday had been any indication of how quickly he could lose control, she was no safer around him than his mother had been around his father.
“Mama told me to give you these.” Sarah pulled clean britches and a cotton shirt from her pouch. She pushed the clothing at his chest, then turned to leave. She stopped abruptly to face him again. “Mama also told me to tell you that, after what happened yesterday, you and Miss Evelyn need to have a talk and clear up some misunderstandings. I’ll be waiting over by that stand of willows.” Sarah held up the scissors, and marched off.
Alex stared after her. Had he truly lost all touch with civilized society? Yesterday, Evelyn had called him a vile monster. She hadn’t recognized him in St. Charles several months ago.
As a young girl, Evelyn Lewis had been infatuated with him, and he’d taken no notice. Alex shook his head and gave a short laugh. She’d been the last person on his mind over the years. He’d regarded her as his best friend’s pesky little sister, nothing else. He ignored that she often watched him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. Just some silly little girl’s fanciful notions. She’s not so little anymore, Walker.
Alex stared at the clear water in the creek, his reflection a blur as the water meandered by. No, Evie was certainly not a little girl anymore. Perhaps for both their sakes, it would be wise to make himself more presentable, at least until he figured out what to do about her. Against his better judgment, he slowly unbuckled the belt from around his waist. Pulling his shirt up and over his head, he gritted his teeth against the sharp pain the action caused to the incision on his chest.
****
“I’ll return within a few hours. If you need me for anything send one of the boys. I have already told them to stay near camp to watch over Sarah.” Daniel Osborne bent over to give his wife a lingering kiss on the lips, then favored her with a soft smile before he turned and strode from camp.
Evelyn sat near the morning fire, silently observing the couple. The love and devotion between these two people was evident in everything they did; a soft touch, a warm glance, a quick smile. Evelyn marveled at the difference in appearance and behavior between this mountain man and the rest of the trappers she had encountered so far. Daniel Osborne was a rare man, she concluded. And his wife Aimee was an even rarer woman. That they had successfully made this wilderness their home and raised a family was astounding.
“If you see Amos Harris, tell him if he wants his boil lanced, he’ll have to come see me today,” Aimee called after her husband. “I’ll start packing so we can be on our way bright and early.”
Evelyn’s head snapped in Aimee’s direction. Her heart jumped in her chest suddenly.
“You’re leaving?” she asked, setting aside the wooden bowl in her hand. Her appetite vanished.
Aimee nodded. “Tomorrow morning. We have to return home. Daniel’s done trading his furs.” She cast a worried look in Evelyn’s direction.
“I see.” Evelyn lowered her gaze to the ground. She raked her teeth across her lips. What would become of her? For the first time in weeks, she’d felt completely safe, even around Aimee’s husband, Daniel. He was well groomed and less intimidating than the rest of these trappers that milled around camp.
Alex had disappeared the previous evening after she nearly attacked him with the knife, and she hadn’t seen him since, which had suited her just fine. He was nothing more than an overbearing brute, as wild and uncivilized as the Indians she’d seen. Evelyn rubbed absently at her wrists, which bore the marks of his firm grip.
“Will you take me with you?” Evelyn stood abruptly and stared at Aimee. Her bold request was rude and imposing, but she didn’t know what else to do. She had no one, and nowhere else to go.
Aimee studied her, then her eyes focused on something behind Evelyn, and her face brightened in a wide smile. “Alex, you’re just in time for breakfast. Would you like some coffee?”
Evelyn wheeled around at the sound of his name, her heart lodged in her throat. A man who was a stranger, yet looked oddly familiar strode into camp. She stared at him, open-mouthed. An older version of the Alex she remembered, the quiet, mild-mannered youth from her childhood dreams now walked toward her. His face was clean-shaven, and his dark hair trimmed to below the nape of his neck. The grease-stained buckskins he’d worn the day before were gone, replaced by a clean cotton shirt and what looked like newly sewn buckskin britches.
“Mornin’, Evie,” he said, his voice barely audible. His blue eyes held her gaze.
Evelyn tried to speak, but she couldn’t bring forth a single word. Her mouth had gone completely dry.
“He was rather disagreeable, Mama, but as you can see, the task is accomplished.�
�� Sarah rushed into camp from the same direction Alex had come from, a triumphant grin on her face.
“Come along, Sarah,” Aimee said, and grabbed her daughter’s arm. “You and I have work to do.” She faced Alex. “If you’ll excuse us.”
When Sarah opened her mouth, Aimee shot her a warning glare, and pushed her daughter away from camp toward their tent.
Evelyn curled her toes inside her shoes as if it would root her to the ground. An overwhelming urge to run after Aimee and Sarah swept over her. Instead, she glanced up at Alex, who hadn’t moved, nor had he stopped looking at her. Heat rose up her neck and into her cheeks from his intense perusal. How many countless times had she thought about him over the years? He looked just as she envisioned him. No. He was even more handsome than what she’d imagined. How could the face staring back at her be the same face as the hardened mountain man she’d seen yesterday? The face of a murderer?
Alex cleared his throat. “I . . . ah, brought you this.” He held out a bundle of tan-colored cotton material. “Traded for it this morning. Thought you might like something else to wear other than your brother’s old britches. I hope it’s enough to make a dress.”
Trying to steady her hands, Evelyn reached for the muslin material that he offered. Her fingers grazed his, and she jerked back. In one quick move, Alex’s hand reached out, and his fingers wrapped around her hand to keep her from pulling away. He stepped closer and lifted her arm, slowly rotating her wrist. Evelyn held her breath. Memories from the evening before flooded her mind, when Alex had squeezed her wrists to the point of cutting off her circulation. Aimee wasn’t here this time to stop him.
A dark frown formed on his face, and the muscles along his jaw visibly tightened. Alex stared from her face to her hand from beneath his lashes, his blue eyes darkening. His other hand reached out, and he slid the sleeve of Evelyn’s shirt up her arm, fully exposing her wrist. His work-roughened fingers gingerly touched her skin where red marks encircled her. His light touch felt like a caress, sending shivers racing up her arm.
“Evie, I . . .”
Evelyn yanked her hand from his grasp and took a step back.
“You what, Alex?” she said heatedly. Shielding the turmoil that raged inside her with anger, she fisted her hand at her hip and leaned forward. “You’re going to tell me again that you didn’t kill my parents?” She pointed at his chest. Her eyes narrowed, and she continued, her voice growing louder with each word. “That bullet hole proves that you were there. If Charlie’s aim had been better, you’d be dead, Henry would be alive, and I wouldn’t be in this awful place.”
Evelyn spun around, and buried her face in the muslin she still held in her hands. If Charlie had aimed better, her entire life would be different. Alex would be dead.
“Charlie Richardson? That corncracker is the one who shot me?” Alex’s voice boomed behind her. Evelyn wheeled to face him. Anger blazed in his eyes, where moments ago she’d seen a spark of tenderness.
“You deserved it, and more,” Evelyn shouted, advancing on him.
“Like hell I did.” Alex stepped toward her until they stood mere inches from each other. He towered over her, his eyes smoldering anger as he stared down at her. His grimace was more than intimidating.
Evelyn’s eyes widened. It was the same look he wore yesterday just before he grabbed her. No sooner had the thought entered her mind when his hands clamped around her upper arms. She tensed. For a moment, she was sure he would shake her, but his grip eased instantly, and his features softened.
“Evie, I didn’t kill your folks.” His voice had gone normal again. There was an almost pleading tone to his words.
“What were you doing at the farm, then?” She wanted to back away, but his eyes compelled her to remain rooted to the spot. The warmth from his hands radiated into her arms, and he stood so close, the scent of leather and clean male skin assaulted her senses.
Alex’s eyes raked over her face. He didn’t respond for the longest time. When he did, his lips curved in a soft smile, completely transforming his features right before her eyes into those of the boy she had lost her heart to all those years ago.
“I wanted to visit old friends,” he finally answered.
Evelyn blinked. Her eyebrows scrunched together, and she shook her head slightly. She wanted to believe the Alex who stood before her. It had been so much easier to be distrustful of him when he looked like an uncivilized savage.
Don’t fool yourself, Evie.
Just because his clean appearance reminded her of the boy she remembered from her childhood didn’t mean he was innocent. He had become a hardened mountain man. An innocent man wouldn’t have run away, would he? He still held her arms, sending inexplicable waves of heat crashing through her. She tightened her grip on the muslin in her hand.
Alex finally released her, but he didn’t move away. Instantly, the skin where he’d touched her turned cold. Evelyn shivered, wishing he hadn’t let go, yearning for him to hold her. How could he elicit such feelings? Alex’s features blurred in front of her, and tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Then who killed my parents, Alex?” she whispered. “Who would want them dead?”
Alex cursed under his breath. “What would Charlie have to gain by killing your ma and pa?” he asked suddenly.
Evelyn wiped the tears from her face. Charles? The thought had never entered her mind. “I . . . I don’t . . .” Evelyn’s eyes widened. Had the truth been in front of her all along? “He bought the farm, and Henry betrothed me to him.”
Alex’s eyes blazed anew. “He may own your farm,” he said between clenched teeth. “But for now, you belong to me.”
Chapter 7
Laurent Berard whistled loudly through his teeth. His eyes widened, the disbelief clearly written on his face. He jumped so fast from his seat on the ground, Alex thought a spark from the nearby campfire had burned a hole in the Frenchman’s backside. His mouth expanded in a broad smile and his eyes twinkled with mischief. Alex groaned silently as he strode closer into camp. Yancey wisely hadn’t left his spot in the dirt, but his jaw dropped and his eyes popped as if he’d seen a two-headed beaver. The three other men in camp gaped openly. Two sniggered, and the other coughed dramatically.
“A woman in your life is agreeing with you, mon ami,” Laurent said loudly. He clasped Alex’s arms and squeezed heartily. He angled his head first one way and then the other, and sniffed the air. “You look and smell as pretty as a young mangeur de lard fresh from the east.” The three men at the fire burst out laughing.
Alex yanked his knife from his belt and held it to the Frenchman’s throat, glaring at his friend. Laurent released his arms and tilted his chin to the side to avoid the sharp tip, but the threat of a knife in his jugular apparently didn’t diminish the man’s amusement. Alex had known that his comrades would mock the change in his appearance. If any man other than Laurent had referred to him as a pork eater, he would have considered it a great insult, but even coming from his friend, that didn’t mean he had to take the friendly barb lying down.
“Is she a nice robe warmer, Walker? Must be better than an Injun squaw,” one man called loudly. The others didn’t hide the eager expressions on their faces, waiting for Alex to satisfy their curiosity about the woman everyone assumed he had taken as his wife.
“She’ll do,” Alex answered gruffly. He glared at Laurent, his jaw clenched. The others nodded approval and slapped each other on their backs. Ignoring his comrades, Alex lowered his knife and motioned for the Frenchman to follow him away from camp. He didn’t need to watch and listen to any more goading. They didn’t need to know the reason for his absence from camp the night before. If they wanted to assume he had spent it in the arms of his new bride, then so be it.
The thought of spending a night in the arms of a woman like Evie sent his heart racing in his chest. Earlier, he told her that she belonged to him. If only it were true. The idea of Charlie Richardson laying a hand on her caused his muscles to tense, just as h
ot rage had flooded him when he watched other eager men barter for her. That he had yet to pay for his acquisition was best kept between him and Laurent.
After his claim of ownership, Evie had told him in no uncertain terms that she would never belong to him, and had stormed into Aimee’s medical tent. For fear of his own temper getting the better of him, Alex had thought it wise to try reasoning with her again another time. If Evelyn found out that he had no real hold on her, she was just the type of woman to try something foolish and leave. For her own safety, it was better that everyone believed she was his newly acquired wife, at least until they both could figure out what to do. Now all he had to do was keep his own distance.
“Why are you not with your lovely young bride?” Laurent asked when they were out of earshot from the rest of the men.
Alex stopped in his tracks and faced the Frenchman. He and Laurent had been friends for four years, ever since Alex had helped him escape from a war party of Blackfeet. From then on, they had traveled the wilderness together, trapping and hunting the streams and tributaries of the Snake River Country below the Teewinots, sometimes venturing further north into the Yellowstone. While Alex was committed to the Rocky Mountain Fur Company, Laurent had always been a free trapper. Now that Alex had cut his ties with the company, he was eager to reach the small, secluded valley at the base of the great Teton Mountains. Laurent made his home in that valley, and last winter they had planned for Alex to build his own cabin.
Glancing over his shoulder, Alex leaned toward Laurent and said in a hushed voice, “You know damn well she’s not my wife. I didn’t pay you anything for her.”
Laurent shrugged and grinned. “You have not paid me the amount you boldly proclaimed you would pay for her. All I ask is one beaver pelt.” He held up a hand as if warding off an attack. “I will accept nothing more. Then she is yours.”
Teton Sunrise (Teton Romance Trilogy) Page 6
